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Amma learned Thiruppavai verses from her mother, singing them every December morning in our crumbling Chennai townhouse. Last year, she joined WhatsApp hesitantly, fingers trembling over the screen. Her recitations began circulating online. Strangers sent requests for recordings, then payment offers. Our heritage became currency overnight. Yet something shifted when neighbors started gathering again, drawn by her voice. Young children learned the melodies. The old house filled with laughter and purpose. Amma understood then: some treasures multiply when shared freely, connecting us across generations and screens, rooting us deeper in who we've always been.